It's All Greek to Me
by nothyme
Summary: One-shot, canon couples, AH, Mature. Our favorite couples at a fraternity/sorority swap with the theme "Lost My Heart in the Trailer Park."


**Here is another one-shot that I have written attempting to break through some writer's block for my multi-chapter story. **

**Recognizable characters, songs, and organizations belong to their respective owners; the rest of the material is my own personal work (and somewhat experiences) so do not steal it because that's pretty low.**

**I modeled the Greek organizations after the two that my husband I belonged to in college; see if you can guess which ones they are (you most likely can, they aren't very cleverly disguised). Also, funny side-note, the name of the fraternity where the party is being held (that I created out the name of my husband's) is actually a medical school honorary fraternity that was founded at Dartmouth. Complete coincidence, honestly, but one I didn't want to change after I figured it out. **

**The song that the theme of the party is taken from is by a band called Rehab and the name of the song is actually **_**Sittin' At A Bar**_**. **

**Please review and let me know what you think.**

She walked into the party wearing a short denim skirt with a frayed hem, a white wife beater, a black bra, Candies, and a straw cowboy hat. Her roommate wanted her to carry a baby doll as an accessory, but there were limits to what she was willing to do for the Alpha Kappa Kappa party that someone had decided to theme, "Lost My Heart in the Trailer Park." Instead, said roommate was carrying the doll _and_ wearing the fake Bubba teeth. That girl tended to go all out for swaps.

The two had met freshman year after both got bids from Alpha Pi Omicron. The latter was a triple legacy and the former rushed because it seemed like fun. They banded together after voicing objections to the mandatory pledge study halls—one had a 4.0 GPA and didn't need any help with her study habits, the other was a dance major for whom any kind of "studying" that semester had to be done in front of mirrors with music. They ended up being the only two girls excused from study hall for as long as anyone could remember.

"Shee that hot guy ofer dere? I fink I'll go talk to him."

"I would remove those teeth before you do."

"No way! If he doeshn't like fim, he ishn't worf my time," and with that the tiny woman carrying the baby doll stalked across the room in her Daisy Dukes, rain boots, and t-shirt that insisted, with an arrow pointing down, she was "With Stupid."

The other one took a sip from the G & T she was carrying in a large plastic cup decorated with the year, theme of the party, and her name. Again, the roommate's doing, but at least one with a practical purpose—at least no one would take her drink, hopefully.

She heard her friend laughing from across the room and saw what the joke was: the guy she went to talk to was wearing Bubba teeth too.

"Looks like a match made in heaven," the rumpled looking guy who had suddenly appeared next to her said. She smiled. He was the whole reason she decided to even leave her room that night.

He was wearing swimming trunks, a half open button up shirt with the sleeves ripped off, an obnoxious looking gold chain, and a so-called trucker hat that explained the wearer was "73% Redneck" and that "The Rest is Beer!" He hadn't shaved in a few days, she could tell, and on his feet were scuffed cowboy boots.

"Where did you get the shoes?" She asked, gesturing to his feet. He didn't strike her as the cowboy boot wearing type.

"The guy your roommate is flirting with shamelessly. He's from Texas and I stole them—he doesn't know I have them on. He insists they aren't trailer park, a sentiment with which I agree, but I like to fuck with him," He answered around the cigarette he was in the process of lighting.

"What will he do if he knows you're wearing them?"

"Probably a whole lot of nothing. These bastards are a size and half too small anyway; I'm pretty sure this is punishment enough," he blew out his smoke above her head and waved it away, "Sorry, I know it's a filthy habit. I can't even remember why I started."

"Aren't you pre-med?" She asked, taking in his biceps as he fanned.

"That's the really ridiculous thing about it."

They fell into a comfortable silence, he smoking and occasionally taking a sip from his beer, she drinking out of her party cup, both watching the growing crowd.

"So, Ms. Anthropologist, what are you observing this fine, fine evening?" She turned to see one of the other AKaps smiling, flashing his dimples at her. They had a class together, _Love, Sex, and Desire: Examining the Mating Rituals of Primates_, a class she was fascinated in and one he was using to fulfill his advanced-level humanities credit. He was a finance major and had more than once told her that he didn't care about the mating habits of Bonobo Chimpanzees.

"Well, I can tell that more actives are at this swap than at any that has been held all year," she said, tapping her chin with her index finger.

"That's simple mathematics," the other guy replied, the seriousness of his answer mocking his well developed 1970s style mustache (grown solely for the nights festivities), the hunter's orange vest that was worn without it's underlying shirt (simply to show off the bulk he carried from playing tight end on the school's football team) and the fishing cap he was sporting which was complete with tackle (that looked suspiciously brand new).

"Well, how about the continued animosity between the AKaps and the Alpha Sigs? If that's not male posturing I don't know what is," she was referring to the composite photo hanging in the entrance hall, which was not a photo of all the members of Alpha Kappa Kappa, but of Alpha Sigma Episilon—from 1923.

"Ah, boyish shenanigans. Come on, I want a real anthropological observation," he said, taking a sip of his Natural Ice Beer, the brand a tribute to the theme.

"Hmm…well, I'm not sure if this counts, but I do notice that that annoying blond pledge of yours with the spiky hair is apparently having an in-depth discussion with your girlfriend's boobs."

The two guys whipped their heads around to where she indicated and sure enough, the poor freshman decided to try out his flirting ability on the most beautiful girl in Alpha Pi (probably one of the most beautiful girls period). He came about eye level with her ample chest and had spent at least five minutes attempting to converse with it. The woman to whom the chest was attached was growing more and more pissed off—and she wasn't one to get angry and stay silent, although she was one to finish her drink before assaulting someone.

"Pledge!" The larger of the two men bellowed, his dimples disappearing, and his rubber flip flops slapping loudly on the floor.

The remaining two chuckled as the pledge managed to spill beer on himself, the breasts he was ogling, and, somehow, two other pledges that happened to be in the crossfire. The angry girl slapped him across the face as, in his nervous and slightly drunken state, he attempted to clean off the spilled beverage and ended up mainly groping a woman who was beginning to look and sound more and more like a hissing cat. The groping, which the dazed pledge didn't even have the presence of mind to enjoy, lead to more yelling and wild gesturing by the boyfriend who only managed to look ridiculous in his skin tight Wranglers.

"Think he'll ever recover?" He whispered to her, watching the pledge cower, not from the wrath of an active, but from the wrath of a sorority girl who was going to have to spend the rest of the night smelling like cheap beer.

"Oh, she'll call down eventually. You know how she is, all bark, very little bite."

"I'm pretty sure he would like her little bites," he responded, motioning to the now chastened pledge.

"I bet every guy on campus would beg for them," she snorted.

"Not me," the guy responded, throwing his cigarette to the ground and stamping it out, "Looks like you're out of fuel—care to take a trip to my room for a refill? Gin and tonic right?"

She nodded and followed him up the stairs to his room, along the way passing various members of both organizations in stranger and stranger modes of dress.

One sophomore Alpha Pi, a theater major, had finagled the drama department's pregnancy padding, and was channeling trailer park a la Britney Spears with cutoff shorts so short the pockets hung out and ratty looking hair in a ponytail. She also seemed to have brought along Kevin Federline, albeit the fat, post divorce version—the girl's AKap boyfriend, also with extensive padding, was sporting an Ed Hardy t-shirt, shorts so long they looked like pants, and a chin-strap drawn on with eyeliner.

On the second floor, they passed by the open door of one of AKap seniors, where the occupant was sitting in a ratty looking recliner, watching a soccer game, Liverpool vs. Manchester United, and drinking a giant Colt 45. They stopped to say hello.

"Hey, man, what's up? I see you got dressed up for the occasion," he said, indicating the clothes his fraternity brother was wearing.

"What? It's comfortable," he shrugged. He was wearing a pair of boxers with marijuana leaves printed on them, an untied bathrobe, white socks and slippers.

"Where's your woman tonight? I didn't see her at the house before we left," the girl asked.

"She's studying for the LSAT. I told her one night away wouldn't kill her, but you know how it is—she's determined to go to Georgetown."

"Well, she doesn't want it to seem like she's just pathetically following you; Baltimore and D.C. are close enough so you two can see each other but not so close that neither of you will get any work done," she responded, knowing by heart the reasons her sorority Big Sis was giving for obsessing over Georgetown Law.

"Yeah, yeah, but she's so smart she'll probably make the first perfect score on the damn thing. I've graded some of her practice tests—they're in the 170s."

They nodded like they knew what that meant.

"So, have you gotten your MCAT scores yet?" the older brother asked the younger, turning his attention back to the TV screen. They knew each other well enough to know this wasn't a slight; this was one of the biggest matches of the year.

"Yesterday. I got a total of 37."

"Jesus," the man said, still not dragging his eyes from the game, "With your grades you can just about name your school. Congrats man. Want me to save a seat for you at Johns Hopkins?"

"I've still got another year to decide. I don't know—I'm thinking New York but my dad wants me to go to Chicago."

"Hey," his eyes were suddenly intently focused on something other than the spectacle he had been waiting for weeks to watch, "Don't let your old man dictate where you go. I know he went to Northwestern, but don't let that influence you too much." With that said, the attention switched back to the game just as his team scored a goal.

"I know, I know…we'll see you later, got to get this little lady another drink," the guy said, smiling at the girl and leading her back out into the hall.

"You'll never go thirsty at AKap!" was the parting words their friend had to offer.

Three doors down and across the hall was their destination. He unlocked his door ("I don't need a pledge deciding to take some girl's v-card on my futon," was his response to her raised eyebrow), ushered her inside, and shut it behind them. The room was tiny, but better than her own; all the rooms at the Alpha Pi Omicron house were doubles, save for the President's.

The usual college posters adorned the walls—"Save Water, Drink Beer!"—and beside his tiny closet was a top-of-the-line, if somewhat small, flat screen television that appeared to be in a stranglehold from all the wires that attached what she had come to realize were necessities for post-adolescent males: Playstation, Wii, and Xbox. He slid open his closet door and moved aside some shirts to reveal a mini-fridge, stocked with various beers, dubious looking takeout, along with, stunningly enough, Bombay Sapphire, tonic water, and limes.

He made her a drink while she took off her hat and scrolled through the offerings on his iPod, cutting the lime and stirring with his Swiss Army knife. She was in the middle of making a playlist when he handed her the cup, "What do you think?"

She took a sip and smiled, "Awesome. Better than mine—we had to use enough limes to get pass our House Mother."

"How is the Mother Hen?"

"Satan's Spawn, thanks for asking. You know she actually barged into my room the other night and accused me of hiding boys in my room?"

"Where was your roommate?"

"Asleep in her bed—we both were it was 2 am on a Tuesday! Plus, we live at the end of the hall on the second floor; there would be no way for a guy to hide in there."

"What about the fire escape?"

"No way—if you open any door or window other than the front after eleven an alarm goes off, which she made us proceed to do by opening our window to prove that we were not, in fact, harboring fugitive boys."

"Nice to know you Alpha Pis are well protected."

"Yeah, I'm sure it is."

He took the two steps from where he was standing in order to join her. She completed her playlist and docked it to play.

"I thought John Mayer was a 'tool'," she commented.

"A talented tool-his guitar work is amazing," he answered, settling into his seated position, his body barely an inch away from hers, his arm slung over the back of the futon.

She smiled and didn't comment, just listened to the song she had chosen.

"I like this outfit," he said, fingering the black bra strap that was obviously showing from her shirt.

"You like my trashy look?"

"I like your look."

"What a line."

"It's not a line."

"I think I know a line when I hear one."

"I don't think you do."

"Oh, I do."

"Baby, if I was throwing you a line, you would know it."

"Stop trying to spit game and just kiss me."  
"If that's how you want it."

"That's how I want it."

"Well, we here at AKap do try to give a girl what she wants."

"Do they teach you to say that at pledge retreat?"

"Along with the phone message."

"And what's that?"

"Thank you for calling the Alpha Kappa Kappa house. Drinks are served on the veranda between the hours of two and eight," and he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers.

She immediately parted her lips and he made the sound she had heard him make one day while eating chocolate ice cream.

His hands slide under her shirt and came to rest on her not insignificant assets.

"I told you, this outfit is amazing," he whispered in her ear, as his fingers traced the edges of her bra, coming to rest on the front clasp.

"Still with the talking," she responded, slightly breathless.

"So sorry, let me fix that," he said and opened the front clasp with a flick of one hand and took her shirt off with his the other.

She was sure she heard something rip but didn't have time to think about it because in that instant his warm wet mouth descended on her nipple, sucking it in and teasing it with his tongue.

It became a flurry of limbs as they desperately tore each other's clothes off. Soon she was sitting with her legs spread and his head was drifting to the incendiary spot between them.

She sucked in air quickly when his lips touched hers, and in a reversal of their initial coupling, his tongue moved out to part them. She fisted his hair in her hands as his tongue traveled from the sensitive spot she wished he would stay on to the place where she wanted his dick.

He circled her clit, grazing it with his teeth, then began to lightly massage it. Her hands tightened in his hair and he moved to her dripping wet opening where he darted his tongue in and out, teasing her and tasting her.

She decided she'd had enough of his wonderful torment, pulled him up by his hair and shoved her tongue in his mouth. She could taste herself on him which only made her want him more.

He was thrown down on the futon (okay, he went pretty willingly) and she climbed atop him. She took his already rock hard dick into her mouth, sucked up the length once, then moved into the proper position.

"Wow, you're certainly insistent, aren't you?" he said, his eyes shining as he took in her naked body.

"I know what I want-that's not so bad is it?" she asked as she sank down, impaling herself with him.

"Fuck no," he grunted, as her tight wet body enclosed his.

She leaned over, bracing her hands on either side of his face, her long hair making a curtain around the two of them. She lifted her hips up and down, pulling him in and out, creating the wonderful friction that would make her explode. His hands grabbed her ass, fingers digging in the flesh, as her movements became less controlled and her breathing deeper. He could tell she was close, she kept getting tighter and tighter-finally, with a high pitched cry, she came, contracting almost painfully around his dick. She collapsed on top of him, her arms refusing to continue supporting her weight. He flipped them over and re-entered her hard, his movements fast and reaching deeper than he had been able to with her on top. His fingers again found her clit and shortly, with the proper amount of stimulation, her cries began coming loud and closer together. Just as he thought he couldn't hold out any longer, her grip on him became vise-like again and she fell into another orgasm. He followed within a second, exploding inside her and, in a similar fashion, collapsing on top of her.

For a while the only sounds were her playlist and both of their uneven breathing.

"So New York, huh?" she asked.

"Yeah, I heard they've got a really great Anthropology department there," he said, grinning at her.

"What's all this interest in Anthropology all of the sudden?"

"My fiancée is getting her degree in it," he responded, grabbing her left hand in his and moving his forth finger over the new ring sitting on it.

"Really? Do I know her?"

"I don't know-hot brunette, she's an Alpha Pi."

"Hmm. Yeah I think I do-she's a cool chick," she said, laughing at him. Her expression suddenly turned serious. "I don't want you to go to school somewhere just because I am-if you want to go to Chicago, or hell, Alabama for all I care, we'll figure something out."

He kissed her on the neck. This was yet another reason to be in love with this funny, brilliant, beautiful woman.

"Baby, you are my life now. _I'm_ following _you_ to New York, or, hell, Alabama, wherever you want to go. And like I said when I put that ring on your finger-it's us now, together no matter what."

She smiled. Just another reason why she was in love with this cocky, intelligent, gorgeous man.

Suddenly there was loud banging on the door.

"If you are fucking her with my cowboy boots on, I'm going to fucking kill you, man!"


End file.
